


Happy Thursday

by kiitos



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Gratuitous Swearing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 08:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiitos/pseuds/kiitos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Valentine's Day. Cue confusion and slightly weird gifts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Thursday

Malcolm was fuming at his desk when Jamie strolled in at half nine like it was totally fucking acceptable for the senior press officer to be an hour late. Sam buzzed through to Malcolm to let him know that the runty little fuck wanted to see him. Malcolm had half a mind to tell him to get fucked because he was in that kind of a mood and because he had an enormous fucking clusterfuck to deal with because the transport minister had been papped getting arsy about the standard of wine in first class right in the middle of a huge fucking backlash about the standard  of the train service as a whole . But Jamie was inevitably Jamie and strolled through anyway.

Malcolm was just considering the best way to verbally annihilate the cunt when Jamie dropped an overly large netted bag of satsumas on Malcolm’s desk. The sense of confusion was swift and fairly obvious judging by Jamie’s full body eyeroll shift into his trademark angry sway.

“Happy fucking Thursday, Malc.” He said by way of explanation. Malcolm still didn’t comprehend until the angry sway became particularly violent in the direction of the one day per page calendar on the desk.

Oh right, it was fucking Valentine’s Day wasn’t it? A nice excuse for men everywhere to spend more than they can afford so their wives and girlfriends don’t find out about whoever they’ve been fucking on the side. Still, the significance of the fruit had not yet made itself clear so Malcolm raised an eyebrow in very deliberate question. Jamie sighed like he had just been extremely put upon.

“It’s like the only fucking thing you fucking eat, you anorexic shit. I can’t cook without causing a nuclear fucking explosion so I couldn’t make anything, so a fucking three quid sack of vitamin C was the best I could do.”

Malcolm stared at him like he’d just announced that he was going to start a cult to worship Julius’ Nicholson’s baldy head. Jamie sighed loudly again and turned on his heel to kindly fuck off. He just made it to the door when Malcolm told him to turn around then threw a little box at him followed swiftly by a Satsuma.

“Fucking cufflinks, you cunt.” He growled. “Happy fucking Thursday.”

Jamie grinned maniacally and practically fucking skipped out the room to go and maim some poor soul.

“Eat the fucking orange!” Malcolm yelled after him as an afterthought out of consideration for Jamie’s general wellbeing, whisky and fags did not a healthy diet make.  And anyway, it was actually kind of fucking sweet or some poncey shite like that that Jamie had noticed what Malcolm actually liked and maybe he didn’t want Jamie to die from scurvy just yet. He’d really fucking miss the shags.


End file.
